


All That's Left Behind (is the shadow on my mind)

by LadyOrion



Series: Only You and I [4]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Angst, Descendants 1, Heartbreak, I mean fair tbh, M/M, yikes he's mad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 10:37:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20338747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOrion/pseuds/LadyOrion
Summary: It was the talk of the Isle. So many people had been chattering about it, Harry couldn’t even tell who he’d heard it from first. But the story was universal: four villain children had been chosen to leave the Isle of the Lost and live in Auradon. Those children were Mal, daughter of the infamous Maleficent, and three of her allies: Carlos De Vil, Evie…and Jay.That last name had hit Harry like a punch in the gut, numbing shock ebbing away into debilitating pain. Harry, unwilling to hear anymore, stormed back to the chip shop, taking the back entrance and climbing the stairs to where he, Uma, and Gil had their bedrooms. He shut himself in his room, leaning back against the door.xTitle from "These Streets" by Bastille





	All That's Left Behind (is the shadow on my mind)

**Author's Note:**

> Finally we've reached movie canon! Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy! :)

Harry paced up and down his room, trying to contain his rage. 

It was the talk of the Isle. So many people had been chattering about it, Harry couldn’t even tell who he’d heard it from first. But the story was universal: four villain children had been chosen to leave the Isle of the Lost and live in Auradon. Those children were Mal, daughter of the infamous Maleficent, and three of her allies: Carlos De Vil, Evie…and Jay.

That last name had hit Harry like a punch in the gut, numbing shock ebbing away into debilitating pain. Harry, unwilling to hear anymore, stormed back to the chip shop, taking the back entrance and climbing the stairs to where he, Uma, and Gil had their bedrooms. He shut himself in his room, leaning back against the door.

Harry’s room was fairly plain and well-ordered, partially because he really didn’t spend much time there. His bed was tucked into the corner, shrouded in fishnets. Various flags and nautical ropes decorated the walls, along with a cracked mirror, and all his belongings were tucked away into a large chest. A rickety table next to his bed served as a kind of nightstand, littered with empty glass bottles and a lamp. His windowsill was lined with shells and bits of sea glass he and Uma had spent hours searching for when they were young. 

And so, he paced, trying to ignore the swelling rage and, what’s worse, the terrible heartbreak roiling in his chest. Jay was gone. He’d gone without even saying goodbye. Harry knew that technically,  _ technically _ , they weren’t together, but damn that hurt. Jay was supposed to care about him. How could he leave without so much as acknowledging Harry?

And then,  _ and then _ , in a bitter irony, Jay was in Auradon. Jay was free, free to love and free to explore and experience everything Harry couldn’t. And after Harry had opened up to him, spilled the whole stupid tale of his wish to do exactly that. What had Jay said?

_ But that’s all it is. A dream. A beautiful, impossible dream. _

Harry screamed in rage, grabbing one of the empty bottles off the table and hurling it at the wall. It shattered, spraying glass across the floor. It felt good, so Harry did it again, and again. He kicked over his chest, scattering its contents across the floor. He almost laughed with the complete irony of the situation. 

He couldn’t believe this; couldn’t believe Jay would do this. Jay loved him, he’d told him a few weeks ago, at Harry’s beach. Well…not told, exactly. He never said the words, but Harry had been sure of what he meant. He’d been so sure...But was he wrong? Did he misunderstand? When Harry had said ‘me too’, did Jay think he meant something else? 

Or, did Jay know exactly what Harry had meant? Maybe that was why he’d left without saying goodbye. He knew what Harry meant and didn’t feel the same. 

Harry lifted a hand to run through his hair, and a flash of red caught his eye. The bracelet.

Harry remembered the night Jay gave it to him, while sipping whiskey on the rocky beach by the docks. From then on, Harry hardly ever took it off, only when absolutely necessary. Even then, he guarded it with a ferocity only rivaled by that with which he guarded his hook. Looking at it now, he couldn’t stand the sight of it. He yanked it off, coming dangerously close to breaking it. 

Honestly, he didn’t know why he didn’t. It was certainly no longer the precious memento it had been. Whatever the reason, he hurled it into the corner of the room, not wanting to look at it ever again.

Harry heard the creak of the door opening. He whirled around to shout at whoever had the misfortune to disturb him, but the bitter curses died on his lips when he saw Uma standing in the doorway. Her face was twisted in rage, her hands shaking by her sides, one of her knuckles dripping blood onto the floor. Worse than that, her eyes were tinged red, tear tracks only just visible on her cheeks. She stepped in silently and closed the door.

“They’re really gone, aren’t they?” Harry said, his voice sounding dead and hollow to his own ears. In lieu of a response, Uma grit her teeth through a cry of rage and made to punch the wall nearest to her. Harry caught her hand before she could, though he wanted nothing more than to punch something himself, repeatedly.

“Yeah, they’re gone,” she spat viciously. “Left in a fancy limo this morning. Oh, I bet Mal loves this, huh? She gets to go to Auradon and live the high life, while we’re stuck here fighting for scraps. Fucking unbelievable!”

Harry was silent as Uma continued her tirade, waving her arms about wildly and almost putting her fist through the wall again. Suddenly, her eyes fell on the broken glass scattered against the wall, noticed the overturned chest and the red bracelet disregarded in the corner. She sat down on Harry’s bed and fell silent, slumping forward with her elbows on her knees.

“Shit,” she muttered to herself. “What am I doing? This isn’t why I came here.” She sighed, rubbing her non-bloody hand over her face. “How are you doing?”

“What are ya talkin’ about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Harry,” Uma replied. “I know about you and Jafar’s son.”

This caught Harry off-guard, distracting him momentarily from his anger. Uma had known? How? For how long? 

“Since it first started, I guess,” she replied when Harry asked her this. “Figured you were seeing someone after your 16 th birthday, and a few weeks later, I followed you. Gil knows too, by the way. Apparently, he saw you and him at school once, in an empty classroom.”

“And ya…ya aren’t mad?”

“Oh, I was,” Uma said dryly. “Thought you’d lost your damn mind. I was going to tell you to stop, but I just…just couldn’t.”

Harry sat down next to her, trying to take this in. “Why not?”

Uma looked down at the floor, scuffing the wood with her boot. “You looked…you looked happy.”

Harry laughed then, cold and humorless. “I was.” He was silent for a long time. “I wish ya had.”

“What?”

“I wish ya had told me to stop. I woulda listened to ya, woulda stayed away. Maybe then I wouldn’t have…” Harry trailed off when tears started to sting his eyes. He forced it down with a fierce determination. He would not cry. He would not. He tried to focus on his anger. Yes, angry thoughts. No room for sadness or pain or heartbreak. 

“Wouldn’t have what?” Uma pressed, her voice quiet and tired.

“Wouldn’t have everythin’!” Harry burst out furiously. “I wouldn’t have touched him. I wouldn’t have ditched ya and Gil to see him. I wouldn’t have slept next to him; I wouldn’t have let him in! I showed him everythin’! Gave him everythin’!” He slumped forward. “I told him about our dream, to see the mountains and sail the seas and live free. He said it was impossible, but now he’s out there, livin’ it, and we’re still here.”

Uma was silent, letting the words fall from his lips. Harry wished she’d say something, wish she’d talk so he would stop, would stop admitting how foolish and vulnerable he’d been.

“I took him to my beach,” Harry admitted quietly, and Uma inhaled sharply. She knew how much that little strip of beach meant to Harry; he wouldn’t even take Uma or Gil there, and they didn’t ask. It was symbolic; it represented the deepest, most private parts of him. He’d finally shared it with someone else, finally laid himself bare told Jay his most secret, stupid dreams and let Jay touch him like no one else had. Harry remembered the feeling of Jay inside him, moving with him, remembered how intoxicatingly wonderful it had felt, to be so close, so connected. But now Jay was gone, without so much as a goodbye, and Harry was left feeling empty, feeling humiliated and betrayed. “I took him there and we had sex and I told him…fuck, I loved him.” 

It was the final admission; the last, unspeakable truth, one he’d never said aloud to anyone. Tears pooled in his eyes and ran down his cheeks. His anger had left him, leaving him no shield against the terrifying realities of heartbreak.

“Oh, Harry,” Uma said sadly, her voice so quiet it was barely a whisper. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close to her as he began to cry in earnest, horrible, gasping sobs. He didn’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed; all he could think, or feel was the pain in his chest, the emptiness Jay had left in his life. He’d taken a part of Harry with him when he’d crossed the barrier, leaving Harry incomplete, leaving him broken. 

“We’ll get out of here someday,” Uma whispered, some unknown amount of time later, after the tears had slowed. Her voice was shaky. Harry couldn’t see her face, but he had a feeling she’d been crying a bit herself during their embrace. “I promise, I’ll find a way out.”

“I don’t even care anymore,” Harry said dully, staring at the wall opposite them. Uma pushed him away, turning him bodily to face her.

“Don’t say that!” Uma snapped. She pulled a vaguely clean cloth out of her pocket and wiped his cheeks. The cloth came away black with kohl he wore around his eyes, smudged all to hell by tears. “Don’t ever say that.”

“Why not? It’s hopeless anyway.”

“Harry,” Uma said, distress coloring her tone. “I know you’re heartbroken, and I’m sorry. If I ever see Jay, I’ll gut him like a fish. But you can’t do this. You can’t give up on everything we’ve ever dreamed of. You can’t let this destroy you. Don’t give him the damn satisfaction.”

“Please go away, Uma,” Harry said tiredly. And he was tired, he was bone-weary with emotional exhaustion. He just wanted to sleep for days, possibly forever. “I’m tired.”

“Harry…”

“Just go,” he threw off his coat and laid so he had his back to her, facing the wall. She stayed where she was for a couple minutes, then he heard her sigh. 

“Fine. But I’ll be back at dinner, and you’re going to get out of this bed and eat.”

Harry didn’t reply, couldn’t find the energy to do anything except stare at the wall. He felt the mattress shift as Uma stood, heard her footsteps heading to the door. The door opened and closed, and she was gone, leaving Harry alone with his misery.

True to her word, Uma was back a few hours later. When Harry refused to get up, she fetched Gil and together they forcibly dragged Harry into the kitchen. They put a plate of food in front of him and wouldn’t let him leave till he ate it. 

It was like that for a couple days. Harry felt stuck, trapped in a pit of apathy and hopelessness and pain. He didn’t have the energy to do anything but sleep. Uma and Gil dragged him out to eat and drink and walk around the beach or visit the ship, but other than that Harry just shut himself in his room.

On the third day, however, he woke up and found he felt better. He was still immensely hurt and incredibly angry, but it didn’t feel as crushing anymore. He got up and changed his clothes for the first time in a couple days, putting his room back in order. Gil had disposed of the glass shards, but everything else had been left where Harry had thrown it.

In cleaning up, Harry’s eye was once again caught by the red bracelet. He picked it up, turning it between his fingers. Idly, he contemplated tearing it, or tossing it into the sea, or burying it at the bottom of his chest so he’d never have to see it again. Instead, he slipped it back onto his wrist. It would serve as a reminder, he decided. A reminder of what happened when you let people in, let them see you vulnerable. 

It would never happen again.

When he walked into the kitchen of his own accord, Uma smiled for the first time in days. They would get through this. He would get through this. They’d get out of this hellhole and make Auradon pay for their mistake. They’d be free. Harry wouldn’t rest until it was done. 

**Author's Note:**

> See you on Saturday for more angst, featuring the shit show that is these angsty teens!
> 
> Also this red bracelet I keep mentioning is an actual thing Harry wears in D2 so there's that for you


End file.
